


First Aid

by minnesotamemelord



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, First Aid, First Kiss, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Oops, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Is Not Helping, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Tony-centric, but he tries, this was a mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 22:44:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnesotamemelord/pseuds/minnesotamemelord
Summary: Steve and Tony patch each other up after a fight.





	First Aid

"I heal quickly. I'll be fine." Steve brushed Tony off as he tried to stand up from where he sat on one of the tables in Tony's lab.

"You'll heal, but there's a bullet in there. If you heal around the bullet, it leaves you open for infection. So stop being such a baby, sit your ass down, and let me take it out." Steve looked reluctant, but he sat. Tony pulled a big white box with a red cross on it from under the table. "I still can't believe this is the first time you've ever gotten shot."

"My suit was supposed to be bulletproof." Steve shrugged.

"Your _suit_ is bulletproof. _You_ are not, and that's why we don't take our suits off in the middle of missions."

"I was on _fire,_ Tony-"

"Your suit is fireproof! I built it, Steve. I made it fireproof."

"I... did not know that."

"Obviously." Tony opened the box and pulled out a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. "This is going to hurt," he said with a sadistic grin. It did hurt, actually, a lot, but Steve wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, so he gritted his teeth and held onto the edge of the table with white knuckles.

The pain faded quickly, and so did the swimming feeling behind Steve's eyes.

"You done?"

"You're a wimp. No, I'm not done. I haven't even taken the bullet out yet."

"Then get to it. I want to get out of here."

"You're that ready to abandon me again?" Tony asked mockingly.

"Always am."

"Screw you."

"Wouldn't you like to." Steve was only joking, but Tony’s face lit up with a soft pink glow.

"Shut up. And stay still." Tony squinted at the open wound on Steve's side. "I'm pretty sure I could dig up some local anesthetic somewhere-"

"Just take the damn bullet out so I can get back to the compound."

"Fine," Tony said, setting his jaw. "I know I said the alcohol was going to hurt, but, uh- this is pretty much going to suck." Tony held out his left hand. "I'd suggest holding onto something." Steve took it and squeezed his eyes shut. "On the count of three- one... two... three." On three, Tony plunged the scalpel into the bullet hole. Tony felt like his left hand was about to be crushed into dust, but he kept digging. "I've almost got it- just breathe, Cap." At last, he felt the knife in his hand hit something metallic and wiggled it gently. "And... there we go." The bullet popped out, landing with a gentle _thunk_ on the table. Steve's grip on his hand loosened, although not by much.

"Jesus, Tony."

"You're the one who didn't want anesthesia." Tony dropped the bullet into a miniature glass jar and pressed it into the palm of Steve's hand, the one he was not still holding. "A souvenir."

"Thanks," Steve said sarcastically.

"I'll just slap a Band-Aid on it and you can get out of here." Tony ripped open a box of butterfly bandages and used them to seal the wound shut. "You're good to go. Just try to hold off on the fighting until that heals. Which, knowing you, should only take about two hours." Steve jumped off the table and started towards the door. About two steps away, he stopped. His shoulders dropped.

"You know, Tony, you're not looking too good yourself."

"I'll be fine. I can patch myself up. Always do." Still, Tony's hand drifted to the bridge of his nose, where dark, sticky blood had dried in the crease between his eyes.

"I owe you a favor." Steve turned around and patted the table. "Sit down." Tony didn't move. "Sit." Reluctantly, Tony sat. Steve picked up the rubbing alcohol and a cotton swab. "This might hurt."

"I'll be fine. I'm not as much of a pussy as you."

"That was uncalled for."

"Was it?" Despite himself, Steve grinned. He wiped gently at the cut on Tony's cheekbone. Tony winced at the sting, but held still.

"I'm just... about... done." Steve tossed the cotton ball in the trash, examining Tony's face. "Now who's talking about not taking off your suit?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"It was just my mask. And I was trying to get a kid out of the building and the mask freaked him out."

"Who knew?"

"Who knew what?"

"That Tony Stark is actually a softie."

"I am not, and if you tell anyone I am, I'll deny it."

"I don't think you would." Steve pulled up a stool and sat. Even sitting on a surface lower than the one Tony was on, he was almost at eye level. "I think you want people to know you're nicer than you act. You put on such a tough guy act-"

"You're one to talk."

"-but you're a good man, Tony. I mean it. You remind me a lot of your dad in that way." Tony groaned. "I know you don't think that's a compliment, but when I knew him, he was just like you. Charming. Cocky. Smart, maybe a little too much for his own good. But also kind. Sincere. After Bucky died, he was my best friend. They told me that after my plane went down, he took care of Peggy. And that he didn't stop looking for me until he'd searched the entire ocean, and when he didn't have the technology to look deeper, he built it. There were times that I thought he was an asshole, but that was more just because he was hitting on Peggy than anything else. He did so much for me, Tony, before and after he thought I was dead." Steve absentmindedly wiped a tear from his face.

"He used to tell me stories about you. On the odd occasions he was actually willing to talk to me, anyways. And before I grew up, and learned to hate you because he spent all his time trying to find you, I loved those stories. You were what I wanted to be when I grew up. And then I did grow up, and I met you, and I realized that I _don't_ want to be you."

"Excuse me?"

"That's not what I meant. I mean that you seem so... hurt. All the time. Like you already had a bullet in your chest and every new loss just pushed it in a little further. And I didn't want to be that way, so I put up walls- humor, anger. Isn't it ironic that my father gave both of us our first shields?" Tony smiled sadly and reached out to brush another tear off of Steve's face.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"That was cheesy as hell." Tony laughed.

"Yeah, I knew it as soon as I said it." Steve's thumb brushed Tony's jawline, which had turned slightly purple from being smashed with a boulder earlier, turning his face gently to the side. He pressed a bandage to his bleeding cheekbone, his split eyebrow, the cut that went diagonally across the bridge of his nose. As he sealed the last wound, Tony reached up, gently pulling Steve's hand down. "Thank you." He sounded more genuine than Steve had ever heard him before.

"I'm just returning a favor."

"Not just for that, but for everything. You are the best man I have ever met. And you know how I know that?"

"How?"

"You're the only person I've ever met who liked my father." They both burst out laughing.

"There's no one like you, Tony."

"That's probably a good thing." Steve got to his feet and helped Tony down from his perch on the table. And as he did that, something very odd and possibly unintended happened. Maybe Steve was standing a little too close. Maybe Tony jumped a little too far out. Either way, as Tony's feet met the floor, his lips met Steve's, and either out of surprise or politeness, neither one moved an inch. They just froze. Tony finally had the good sense to pull away, leaning against the table with wide eyes. "Um-"

"That was-"

"What the fuck, Steve?"

"What do you mean, 'what the fuck, Steve?'  _You_ kissed _me._ "

"I most certainly did not."

"Yes, you did, because I sure as hell didn't kiss you."

"Debatable."

"Not really."

"Then we're back to where we started, which was, 'what the fuck, Steve?'"

"I don't know! You were being weirdly nice, and I-"

"So you admit it? You kissed me?"

"Not on _purpose-"_

"How can you kiss someone on accident?!"

"I don't know, it just happened!" Tony went silent for a moment, thinking.

"It was a good kiss, all things considered."

"Huh?"

"I mean it. Not half bad, as far as surprise first kisses go."

"Thanks." Steve rolled his eyes.

"You want to, uh... do it again?"

"What are you, ten?"

"Shut up." Tony flung his arms around Steve's neck, pulling him down low enough that, although he had to stand on his tiptoes, their lips met once again.

"Holy shit," Steve said, leaning back, Tony's arms still around him. "That was some damn good first aid."


End file.
